


Where Desperation Breeds

by Kibbers



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Case Fic, Desperation, Forests, Gen, Investigations, Missing Persons, Monsters, Nurg, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 12:51:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8372929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kibbers/pseuds/Kibbers
Summary: There are ten strangers that go missing overnight. Their cars are found abandoned in a parking lot, all of them covered in leaves. The boys are called to investigate and they find something a little more sinister than a missing persons case.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Here's my submission for the SPN Horror Flashbang in the spirit of Halloween. This is the first time I've attempted anything verging on 'creepy' so please let me know what you think!   
> Huge thanks to [Archangel-With-A-Shotgun](http://archangel-with-a-shotgun.tumblr.com/) for being an amazing beta! I couldn't have done it without your encouragement!  
> Now, without further ado, here's the fic! Enjoy!

There was a woman in an elevator, but that wasn’t the important part. It was an elevator in a hospital, and part of that was important. Her son lay in a bed on the third floor, and the mattress knew the shape of his body. It had for months now and still he stayed. That part was pretty important. Especially for this story.

She had just gotten off work, made the hour commute to spend the night with him. She tapped her toe against the elevator floor, willing it to move faster as the man behind her coughed. She flinched and tried to hide it by stretching her arms out. Tara wasn’t worried about getting sick, but the coughing sounded like her son’s coughing and now his lungs were too weak to cough like that anymore was all. The coughing made her want to cry. She’d give anything to hear Jason cough like that again.

Finally the doors slid open and she moved, heels sharp and scratching, through the hallways she had long since memorized. Once, she had opened the door to the supply closet thinking it was the bathroom. Once, she had pushed her son through the hallways and asked him to close his eyes and pretend they were flying. Once, her visit had been her first time and she’d been talking about bringing Jason home the next day. That was long ago. Tara would bet the indent of her heels were carved into the floor. Would bet they’d be there forever.

She paused outside her son’s room and took a breath. It was always a shock even though she knew what she’d open the door to find. The man from the elevator nodded at her as he walked past her son’s room and she gave him a weak smile. It was pediatrics up here. She knew they both walked through the same sort of hell just now.

She let go of the door handle, slid her feet from her heels, and then she went inside to see her son: fragile, frail, failing. The doctors came in soon after and broke her heart in clinical terms. Her son fell asleep to the sound of her sobbing and she made for the lobby to start the phone tree again. Perhaps her insurance agent would grow a heart, or better yet, perhaps he’d grow the set of lungs her son needed to keep breathing.

The man from the elevator before was already standing in front of the doors with the button pressed and she waited off to the side in the fluorescent lit hallway for the elevator to arrive. 

“After you,” he said. She nodded her thanks and stepped on, shoes dangling from her fingertips while she searched through contact after contact, trying to find someone who would have something to give her. Anything to give her.

She looked up to find the man staring at her, balding head gleaming in all the chrome of the elevator. His eyes were soft blue. She said, “Didn’t we ride up together?”

He smiled. “Yeah, I think we did. Funny coincidence.”

“Funny,” she said, and then she began to cry. “Sorry, I just-”

“Bad news?” he said, reaching out to pat her shoulder. His hands were pristine, like out of a drawing. Like he’d never touched anything in his life.

“It’s my son. He needs this surgery, but we hit our insurance months ago and I don’t know what to do.”

“Sorry to hear that,” he said. “I know this sounds strange, but have you heard about the contest they’re holding in the park down the street? It’s this weekend, huge prize money. Here, I think I’ve got a flyer somewhere on me. I was going to show my kid, see if he wanted to watch the contest after he gets released tomorrow.”

“Congrats,” she said, “about your son I mean.” When he held out the flyer she took it in her hand and began to read. She didn’t notice when he stepped off the elevator, or when the door shut and it began to move upwards again. Tara shook her head. It was a stupid contest. She shoved the paper into her pocket. Tara went back down to the lobby and began to dial. 

On the other side of town, a man shut the door to his home and got into his car. His briefcase was empty on the seat next to him, rattling against the plastic of the seat belt. He drove to the park in the next down over and sat by the pond until the sun set. A man passed him by, dropped a flyer, didn’t turn around to pick it up. Jordan frowned at it, a bold 1,000,000 grand prize scrawled across the top catching his eye. 

There was a flyer tucked beneath the windshield wipers of a woman whose father died the day before and left her nothing to cover the funeral costs. 

A flyer posted onto the lamppost outside Tina’s dormroom the same day she took out yet another student loan. 

One found in the bottom of a stack of advertisements the saleswoman had given Nancy. 

The seeds were planted, let the trees grow.

* * *

_ Ten missing in a small Arizona town with no trace left behind. A coincidence or is there something more sinister bubbling beneath the desert heat? _

Sam turned up the TV as Dean emerged from the shower, steam following him into the maroon- walled dingy hotel room they had for the night. The lamp flickered against the walls and Sam clicked it off. They didn’t need it anyhow. “Check it out,” Sam said, pointing to the news coverage. “It’s nearby, too.”

Dean stopped rummaging through his duffel bag and stared up at the interview with one of the missing person’s families. The woman on screen spoke with a stiff voice and Sam would guess she’d start to cry the minute the camera turned off. “So? It’s probably some loon on a killing spree. Doesn’t seem to be our kind of thing.”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know, you’d think they would have found at least one of the bodies by now. Plus, they all went missing on the same day  _ and  _ with no trace. Something seems off is all I’m saying.”

“You said it’s nearby?” Dean said.

Sam nodded, tapping at his computer. “Two hours north from here. We could swing it on our way home.”

“I don’t know-”

Sam’s phone began to ring. “Sam, you hear about those missing people in Flagstaff?” Garth asked on the other end.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “I’m watching the news segment on it now. Think it’s something we need to take a look at?”

“Yeah,” Garth said. “I do. They haven’t released much info, but I got a call that y’all need to get down there now. Ready for the address?”

“Ready,” Sam said, meeting Dean’s eyes across the room. He nodded and Dean threw on some clothes and started to pack up camp. Looked like they weren’t staying overnight after all.

* * *

The drive went quick and the sun was just coming up when they pulled into the local police station suited up and ready. The building was all brick and chipped. It could use some patchwork. Dean sighed as he turned off the car, peering through the windshield.

They went in, Dean leaning against the desk towards the crew-cut blond man sitting on the other side. “Hey there stranger, we’re here on federal business.”

“Oh, I didn’t know we were getting Feds. This for the missing persons case?”

“Sure is,” Dean said. “I’m Agent Mercury, this is my partner Agent Rose. Care to go over the case with us?”

“I’ll do you one better. We sent a guy down a few hours ago to the parking lot. I’ll get you the address.”

“The parking lot?” Sam asked, stepping closer. He hadn’t heard anything about that in the news or from what Garth told him, but that had been hours ago. 

“Oh, you haven’t heard? We got a call last night around midnight from an anonymous caller. Followed the information and found the cars of every single one of the missing persons just sitting there, covered in leaves. Can’t get any of them open either. Strange. Looks like they’ve been there for the entire weeks since they went missing,” the man said. He scribbled down the address and handed it over. “I’d take you, but we’re short on guys around here.”

“No worries, this is more than enough,” Dean said, pocketing the address. He turned to go, Sam falling in behind him with a thank you tossed over his shoulder. They walked out into the heat of the autumn, trees showering down brown and orange in the breeze. Dean swiped them off his windshield as he rounded the hood, muttering about touching his baby and the nerve of some trees. Sam laughed and got into the car as the morning broke bright. 

It was a dirt-road hidden kind of spot, Dean grumbling the whole way about his tires and having to wash her as soon as they got home.

“That’s nice Dean. Take a left here,” Sam said, voice laced in laughter.

“Sam Winchester, you’re going to be the one to wash this car if you keep laughing at me,” Dean said, as the parking lot appeared out of nowhere. Dean slowed down as they drove through to the end, eyeing the police car at the opening and the row of cars all spaced out across the lot, each one with one space of a gap between them. Sam started to scribble down license plates as they passed and Dean pulled into the last spot on the right beside a minivan the color of muted vomit. 

They got out and a man appeared at the back of the Impala, police uniform untucked at his hips and dirt spattering his shoes. His feet dragged slightly as he approached them, but his smile was soft and settling. “Heard you guys were coming down. Didn’t know the Feds would want a piece of this sort of case.”

“Yeah, well, we were in the neighborhood,” Dean said, holding out his hand. “Care to tell us more?”

The officer shook their hands, introducing himself. “I’m Officer Nurg.”

“Agent Mercury,” Dean shook his hand.

“Agent Rose,” Sam said.

“Great, now if you’ll follow me, I’ll talk you through what we know so far.” Nurg started to walk towards the treeline and Sam shrugged at Dean before following. “Looks like they all parked here, made through the trees, but that’s about as far as we can follow.”

“Any leads from the families? Got to be a reason ten strangers decided to drive to a parking lot in the middle of nowhere and then up and leave their cars, right?”

“Families haven’t said much. One husband mentioned something about a competition, but we can’t follow it anywhere and no one else said anything about it so it doesn’t seem to be checking out.”

“A competition?” Sam asked. “What do you mean?”

“Not real sure, local PD’s been searching for the meaning behind it, but so far nothing’s coming up,” the man said, leading them through the trees. “This here’s where the footsteps end. Maybe you guys can take a peek around and find something we missed.”

“Sure thing. What’s the problem with getting the cars open?” Dean asked.

“That’s the kicker. Doors are like sealed shut or something. Like magic. We’ve looked through the windows as best we can, but nothing stands out besides the usual receipts and wrappers and the like. Windows are all tinted pretty dark,” Nurgle said. “Guess that’s why the called you in here right?”

“Guess so,” Sam said. Dean and Sam split up, moving in opposite directions while they looked for signs of anything. Any rupture in the way the leaves fell, and scratch or claw or rock out of place. Sam walked and walked and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Leaves, rocks, treebark, dirt, dirt, and dirt. 

“Dean?” Sam called. For one moment, Sam turned around and saw nothing he had ever seen before. Turned around and saw nothing of where he had come from. Not a sound, not a sign. The panic started to well, choking at his throat, thick and heavy. What happened to the trees? The road? Where had his brother gone in this madness? 

A leaf clung to his boot and he tried to shake it off. It clung still and he made to peel the leaf off when something sharp cracked at his side, startling him upright again. He whipping his head around. He only saw nothing, but that made the air all the more panic flooded. None of it made sense. He turned slowly back towards where Dean was supposed to be. “Dean?”

Before the word was out of his mouth, the trees multiplied, grew arms, lunging for him. Leaves swirled into a torrent, an onslaught sharp against his face. “Dean!” 

Sam called through the leaves as one fell through his open lips, scratching at his throat. His chest was heaving, the panic making the world sharp and unstable. His heart hammered from the inside, ready to abandon ship for any sign of safety that appeared.

But, his brain whispered and he knew he had to listen to it through the panic. He’d been doing this long enough to know he  _ had  _ to listen to it. Slow down, it said, take a breath. Sam sat down on the floor in the tornado the leaves had become, and he took one deep breath after another until his heart settled into a drumbeat, into a tapping, into something softer still. The trees went back to their stationary standing and the leaves stopped tornadoing his head. Sam spit the leaf from his mouth and tried to call for Dean again.

“Yeah?” Dean called. “Sam? What are you doing on the ground?”

Dean’s arms heaved Sam up from the floor, helped dust off his jacket. “And where’d you get these scratches?”

“Dean, I think this is definitely something of ours,” Sam whispered as Nurg appeared from around a tree.

“Find anything?” he asked.

“Nope, just found a way to walk into a branch,” Sam said, coughing out a laugh. Nurg cackled too, but Dean was silent at Sam’s side. Sam nudged him, and his laughter was weak. Nurg didn’t seem to notice.

“What do you say we head back? You can get us addresses for the victim’s families so we can try to get more information. Let’s start with that husband who mentioned the competition,” Dean said, slinging an arm around Nurgle and giving Sam a chance to wipe blood from a cut dripping down his forehead. Nurg gave them the addresses and headed towards his car on the far side of the lot while Sam and Dean took off. Dean tossed a wave through the window and pulled down the visor as they started to drive into the sun.

* * *

Tara woke up before the light on Saturday. Through the cluttered space of her apartment she’d rented last minute when her son was admitted into the hospital, into the bathroom where the water was only ever cold or, even better, colder. She showered fast, brushed her teeth, and poked at her face in the mirror before rolling her eyes at herself and heading into her room to throw on some clothes. T-shirt, running shorts, tennis shoes. Things for racing. Things for winning.

Tara drove to the hospital with her hair dripping wet down the back of her t-shirt. She opted for the stairs to get herself warmed up. At his door, she eased it open to find him still asleep, curled into the sheets of his bed. His breathing came ragged, but that was nothing new. The sky was dark and she sat a moment by his bedside with his hand in hers. 

“I’m doing this for you baby,” she whispered. “For your new lungs. I hope I win, as silly as it sounds. God I need to win this damn thing.”

The nurses came in to check his vitals and give him his morning medication and he blinked sleepily at her. “Mom? You’re here early.”

“Thought I’d surprise you baby,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Morning.”

“Morning. Mom, guess what? I had a dream I was playing soccer again, but this time I was older. In one of those big stadiums like we went to that one time, and I kicked the winning goal for my team so they carried me through the crowd. And mom, you want to know the best part? The very best part?”

“What’s that?” she asked.

“I ran, mom. I  _ ran. _ I could run again,” he said, rasping already from the excitement of just talking about running again. There were tears in Tara’s eyes but she blinked them away before he could see. They needed lungs. They needed enough money to cover the cost of getting brand new lungs. She had tears in her eyes as she kissed him goodbye for the morning with the promise to return later that night, hopefully with a surprise. She let them stain her cheeks as she rode the elevator down.

She drove to the address on the bottom of the flyer and parked with an empty space between herself the guy beside her in a low to the ground gray car. Both of them waited inside with their doors shut, like the flyer said. To even the playing field, apparently, which was fair enough. There’d be no shoving out of the way, no distance advantage since none of them had any idea which way to go. It was some sort of scavenger hunt, but that’s all any of them knew.

She rummaged through her purse, fighting the urge to call her son and check in on him before the competition started. She was halfway through dialing before she scolded herself for being too overbearing and clicked the end button on her cell phone. In the car to her left, a man tossed her a wave and a grin. She smiled back at him, wondering what it was that brought him here. Wondered if it was anything like the reason she was here. Looking down the line, she saw people of all kinds, little and big, man and woman, grinning and sobbing. They were all there to fight for 1,000,000 dollars for one reason or another.

Tara thought it was strange that so few people showed up for a competition with such high stakes, all for a little thing like a scavenger hunt. The man at her side made a funny face and she stopped thinking about the competition at all. That is, until a man appeared in the center of the parking lot and started to speak.

“Welcome, ladies and gentleman and otherwise, to the show. Thank you all for being on time. Now, let’s begin.” 

Tara reached for her water bottle and took a nervous sip.

* * *

“Mr. London would you mind if we came in? We have some questions regarding your wife.”

“Of course, of course, come in. Though, I’m not sure there’s anything I can tell you that the police don’t already know,” he said, pulling the cherry red glass-paned front door open and gesturing for them to come inside. Sam toed his shoes off at the door at Mr. London’s request and glared at Dean until he followed suit. It was just as well, their shoes were covered in dirt from their venture in the forest and one glance around this place showed how spotless it all was.The tile showed their reflection for fuck’s sake. The least they could do was walk around in their socks. 

He brought them into the living room with sleek black couches and glass windows, all black and white with sharp corners. Sam didn’t think they had kids just by looking around. No parents would buy tables with corners like that. He swore they were sharpened more than they should have been.

“Must be a bitch in the summer,” Dean muttered, staring at the windows taking up the entire back wall.

“It’s not so bad with the shades,” Mr. London replied. He pulled a remote from the side table and with one click the windows were covered by sunshades emerging from the ceiling. Dean whistled appreciatively as Mr. London grinned. He loved to show off his toys.

“Mr. London, if you don’t mind we have a few questions for you,” Sam said.

“Sure, go ahead,” he said, sitting on the loveseat opposite Sam and Dean. He was wearing a dress shirt tucked into dark gray pants and Sam did a double take. The man’s socks were ironed. Sam shook his head. The man’s socks didn’t matter, no matter how strange. His wife did.

“Mr. London-”

“Oh please, call me Nick.”

“Okay, Nick, would you mind telling us what happened the day your wife went missing.”

He nodded. “I spent the morning here, paying bills and the like. Nancy went shopping like she always does Saturday mornings, kissed my cheek on the way out. Then I met some friends for a few drinks and we went to the basketball game that night. She wasn’t home when I got back, nor when I went to bed which is when I started to worry. Our housekeeper said she didn’t know where she was and that she hadn’t come back from her shopping trip. That’s when I called the police.”

“Was there anything different about Nancy? Anything you notice now that you might not have thought strange before?” Dean asked.

He frowned, and somewhere in the house footsteps thundered. Sam was instantly on alert, Dean too at his side. “Nick, is there someone else here?”

“Oh, that’s just the housekeeper. She’s always thudding up and down the stairs.”

Sam and Dean relaxed back into the sofa and Nick shook his head. “There wasn’t anything strange. That’s what makes this whole thing so bizarre.”

“Someone with the local police department said you mentioned something about a contest?” Sam said.

“She wrote something about it in her diary, but I can’t make any sense of it. I’ll have Marley show you her room if you like. I can’t stomach to be in there with her missing, but you’re more than welcome to look around. Anything that will bring Nancy home.”

“That’d be great,” Sam said. Nick called for the housekeeper and she led them to Nancy’s room. Dean started poking through the dresser drawers while Sam read the diary entry Nick had talked about. It was vague, the mention of some sort of competition happening on Saturday and that she wasn’t sure she’d go. 

“Could be talking about the game,” Dean said. “Her husband went after all.”

“Maybe,” Sam said, but that didn’t feel right. It felt like there was something else, something  _ they  _ were missing. 

“No,” the housekeeper, Marley, said, appearing in the doorway. “She never went to the games with Nick. It was always only him and his friends.”

“Do you know what she was talking about here?” Sam asked. Merely shook her head. “Can I ask then what she usually did on Saturday nights?”

She shrugged. “She was usually shut up here writing in that diary. You can take it if you want. Maybe get some idea of where she wandered off to.”

They got Nancy’s license plate number from Nick to check against their list along with a description of what she was wearing the day she disappeared. It matched the maroon sports car, Sam already knew that. It was the first plate he’d written down.

“You’ll call me if you find out anything?” Nick asked as they moved towards the door to leave.

“Of course,” Sam said, shaking his hand. “You’ll be the first to know.”

In the car, Sam started to flip to random pages in the diary, reading bits and pieces out loud. Early on, it was happy enough. Rich newlyweds moving in and settling down. But, then Nancy started to leave tear stains on the pages in her diary, started to jot short and sharp things for entire weeks at a time. Said Nick had a temper and she had to watch out for it and it was her fault really. 

Said Nick said he was sorry, and she believed him. He just looked so earnest, made it up to her and everything.

Said Nick said he was sorry, and she mostly believed him. 

Said that Nick said he was sorry and she wasn’t sure she believed him. 

“Sounds like someone was looking for a way out. Maybe this contest has something to do with that,” Dean said. “Prize money could be an escape route.”

They went to the hospital next to talk to the son of one of the missing women. He’d been the first to call the police with his iv-laced hand, the first to tip off the officers of the impending flood of calls. It was ten right in a row, the last coming before six Sunday morning. Dean waited in the hallway while Sam sat at the boy’s bedside.

“She said she’d have a surprise for me when she came back that night,” Jason said. 

“What kind of surprise?” Sam asked.

The boy shrugged. “She didn’t say. Kept repeating something though, before she knew I was awake. She needed to win.”

“Win? Did you mom play sports or something?” Sam asked. 

The boy shook his head. “No. Never. She was always at work or here with me.” 

He was silent a moment, the machines blaring to a scream down the hall. He sniffled, grabbed Sam’s hand tight. “What’s going to happen to me if she’s dead?”

“Jason, listen to me,” Sam said, grabbing his hand in the room painted the color of the ocean. “You’re going to be okay. My partner and I are good at what we do. Really good. We’ll find your mom, okay? Just hang in there.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Sam said. “Now get some rest, okay?”

Jason nodded, his breath coming weak after talking for so long. Sam pulled his nurse aside and asked her if she knew anything. She shook her head. “Shame too. We had just told his mom he needs transplant lungs and their insurance is capped. Now I’m not sure what’ll happen to him, especially if she’s gone.”

Sam thanked her for her time and moved to the stairwell, Dean falling into step.

“Wonder if this competition had something to do with money,” Dean said as they walked out to the car. “Seems both these women had stakes on the line. Ones greatly improved by winning some moolah.”

It was the fourth family where they found the flyer sticking out from the desk drawer of a middle aged man that hadn’t come home. Scavenger hunt. Come alone. 1,000,000 dollars. Address of the park scrawled across the bottom.

Dean called local PD to have them canvas the forest. Whatever these poor, desperate people had walked into hadn’t been a scavenger hunt after all.

* * *

Tara listened as the man went through all of the rules, voice booming loud enough they only had to crack their windows an inch to hear. In fact, he said it was required they kept them as close to shut as possible. Diving out of the window instead of opening their car doors was grounds for disqualification and keeping them cracked would prevent any attempt at it. They’d have twelve hours, ribbons in blue led them back to the parking lot once they found what they were assigned. Seemed simple enough.

He paced up and down each car, weaving in and out of the empty spaces. As he walked by her side, he let his fingers trail from the front end of the hood of her van, past her eyeline, and all the way to the tail-light, skin dragging against the roof in a peculiar screech. 

She watched as he did it to every car when he passed, starting some from the back, others from the front. It seemed an arbitrary thing and she stopped watching the habit to listen to him talk. 

Wind rattled the leaves and a few landed on her windshield. She thought about Jason back at the hospital, waiting for her. Thought about how she could buy him new lungs with the money she’d get. All she had to do was win. 

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, I ask you, are you ready to find out what you’re looking for?” the man yelled, stopping in the center of the parking lot. They honked their horns in agreement and he laughed and laughed at the sky. 

“Great,” he boomed. Tara’s heart began to thud, desperation oozing from her pores. Whatever it was, wherever she may find it, she would. She had to. His voice rattled the sun. “Be the first to hand me your heart.”

* * *

They ordered helicopters to scan the area, searching for some sign of a scavenger hunt. Ribbons, papers, anything that would indicate a competition had taken place. Sam and Dean went back to the park to look again for more footprints. Maybe they’d missed them since everyone had split up. Maybe they hadn’t been looking in enough directions.

The helicopter whirled overhead as Sam and Dean moved opposite each other through the trees, searching for any sign of a hunt. But, again there were no footprints, no scuff marks or ribbons. Still no sign of anything other than forest life.

The helicopters found nothing from above.

“We’re missing something, what are we missing?” Sam muttered to himself as they walked back towards the car.

“That’s weird,” Dean said, pointing at the closest car to the treeline. The wind had scattered leaves all over the hood in a blanket, but there was a streak from one end to the other completely cleared of leaves or dirt. Like a hand had dragged its way across the car. Dean stepped closer to get a better look. 

“Hey, guys! I didn’t know y’all were already here. Got anything new for me?” Nurg called from the opposite end of the lot near his police car. It too was covered in leaves with a streak missing. Sam tried to put all the pieces together about why that struck him as so odd.

“Oh, not much. You find anything new?” Sam asked, and they went to meet him in the middle of the lot. His eyes kept darting to the car. What was it about the car?

“Unfortunately not. Can’t believe the victim’s families didn’t have anything more for you. They tend to talk more to feds you know,” he said, scratching his hairline that sank back onto his scalp, balding. 

“You know anything local about a scavenger hunt here? Big prize money?” Dean asked.

“Never heard of something like that. Why, did you find something about a thing like that?”

“Sort of,” Sam said. “We’re looking into it. Might hit the rest of the families up then, since we didn’t find anything here.”

“Sure, sure, good idea. Someone’s got to know something, right?” Nurg said. He walked with Dean to his door, but Sam lost track of what it was they were talking about. As he got into the car, he’d looked at the van on his side, peering closer at the streak of blankness across the leaf-cover. Something was moving in the van, something was smudging the windows. 

Across the car hood he gave Dean their signal to get the hell out and Dean made his goodbyes with Nurg. Sam shut his door and looked straight ahead as Dean swung himself into his seat. Nurg leaned through the open door. “Let me know if you find anything.” 

“Will do,” Sam said, smiling. Nurg shut the door and tapped it twice, blue eyes gleaming, as Dean turned to Sam.

“So, what is it?”

“I think something was moving in that van. Tara’s van,” Sam said, pointing. Dean leaned closer, squinting into the window. 

“Is that…” Dean whispered.

“Oh my god,” Sam said. In the van there was a woman, half-heartedly pounding against the window. She was hollow, gaunt, lips cracking and bloody. Her fist beat against the glass, and as they watched her skin split and blood left a smear mark against the pane.

The sound of skin scraping screeched from above their heads and Sam and Dean froze in their seats, watching as Nurg started at the hood of Baby and trailed his fingers slowly from the front, across Dean’s eyeline, to the back tail lights before moving onto the next car. 

“Dean,” Sam whispered, heart pounding in his chest as Dean tugged maniacally at the door handle with no result. “Dean, look.”

Sam pointed down the line of cars, seeing the slow, desperate death of the other victims. In one, a woman tried to shove her fingers through the small gap in the window, skin splitting and bones crushing. In the last car of the line, the police car, a naked man stared straight ahead with wide eyes. They watched in horror as he began to eat his hands.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think? Down below is always open or my tumblr is [KibbersWrites](http://kibberswrites.tumblr.com/), feel free to drop by anytime!


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